Filling the Hole in the Cauldron
by Magnified Goblet
Summary: In their fourth year, Bethwyn Jones and Elwood Lovegood discuss El's broken cauldron. In case you've ever wondered about the folks who spawned Luna.... BethEl. Oneshot. Please R and R.


Beth Jones stood in front of her mirror, brushing knots out of her hair, which was a dark brown that was sprinkled with lighter shades. She ran a hand through the right side of her hair- it was coarser than usual as she had slept on that side all night, but it always seemed to have the texture of rough sandpaper.

She placed the brush gently down on the counter and stared intently into the mirror. Same plain nose, same plain eyes, same plain face…. But smiling always helped. She adjusted her posture and attempted to present a winning smile to the mirror, but all she ended up doing was bumping her head on the ceiling lamp.

"Ouch!" she hissed, rubbing the back of her head vigorously and returning the back of her hair to its knotty state. She hated this bathroom, which she was convinced was tailored for munchkins (otherwise known as her roommates). Her tall frame never fit in it, just like it never fit in anything else.

She looked at herself lengthwise in the mirror. She was still in her flannel pajamas, which emphasized the slender pole she was. At this thought, she nearly slapped herself in the face. She was becoming one of those girls. She never used to be like this. Never! She used to be real. Raw.

Well, she was certainly raw tonight, in all her plain glory. She sighed at the mirror, and turned away. It's not like it matter. She didn't need to look like she was going to the ball to go read, but if someone happened to be down there, and if they were, she knew who it was. He was always there.

Why did she care, anyway? He never noticed anything important.

Beth came swiftly down the banister, adjusting the color of her flannel top as she went.

As she suspected, a fellow Ravenclaw that she recognized instantly as El Lovegood was near the fireplace, though surprisingly he looked like he was actually…. Doing something. His slight form was bent intently over what looked to be a flattened cauldron, though Beth assumed it was simply his collapsible one.

"Hi El," she greeted, pausing at the bottom of the staircase. "Is anything wrong? It must be past midnight," she said as nonchalantly as possible.

"I was just thinking," he said, turning to match her concerned stare with his misty gray eyes. "Remember that time we threw the bezoar into the cauldron to see what would happen?"

Beth laughed lightly. Of course she remembered; it had only happened the day before. She wasn't sure if it had been stupid or ambitious, but the reaction it had gotten out of Slughorn implied the former.

"Sure, I remember," she said, making sure El understood that she was laughing at the memory, not him. People often laughed at him, and it wasn't always for good reasons.

"Well, I think the whole incident might have left an indent in my cauldron. I'm not sure if it was from when the bezoar burned through the bottom of it or when Slughorn slammed his fist into it," he smiled brightly. Beth was suddenly doubled over in laughter and had to grip the arms of a nearby couch for support. After her nails had left significant indentations in the couch, she collected herself and her skirt as she slid smoothly to the opposite end of the side El was on.

Actually, Beth wasn't entirely sure if Slughorn had slammed his fist into it in a vain (and stupid) attempt to grab the valuable bezoar, or if it had been out of El ruining yet another potion. He had certainly been angry, though it could have been both. Bezoars _were_ expensive, and this thought made Beth feel slightly guilty. As usual, El obviously didn't care about something as insignificant as that, and Beth was left worrying about it. Though as she was the one to chuck the bezoar into the cauldron (as she was the one who was most eager to see what would happen), she supposed that she should be the one to feel guilty about it, though El's attitude towards anything he really didn't find important always annoyed her a bit.

She really was interested in Potions, and her calculations were usually correct. However, Slughorn said she would have to step up on her seriousness about the subject if she hoped to advance anywhere, and to not spend her time dawdling around El. This comment had made her blush a little, but it was all said so nicely that she had to agree. She would step up. Sooner or later. Besides, she hadn't been dawdling- she had been helping El, who always seemed to need help (to put it kindly, Potions wasn't his best subject) though lately he had been outright _requesting_ it instead of waiting for Beth to volunteer.

"Why are you up?" El asked suddenly. "I'm usually the only one out here this late."

Beth just had to smile. El reminded some of the other Ravenclaws of a vampire- with his pale skin, vague remarks (yet frank observations) and habit of wandering around the school at all hours of the night, he would have fit the stereotypical bill of one if he had looked anything like that stereotype at all, which he didn't. First of all, El had scraggily dirty blonde hair, and everyone knew that vampires had sleek black hair. Secondly, what vampire would open up a floor for discussion on the ethical treatment of dragons in the middle of the Great Hall? Beth remembered this as if it had happened yesterday too, but it had happened over two months ago. McGonagall nearly had to beg Flitwick to get up off his chair and ask the boy to please stop disrupting every meal, but Flitwick would only sigh, as he knew he was impossible to control, so he had simply stopped trying.

"We could fix it," Beth said, giving it a calculating glance, though El was looking at it fondly.

"Sure," El said with disinterest in his tone. He placed the dilapidated cauldron on a side table and started glancing around the room as if he were searching for something. He spotted the Daily Prophet, and he quickly picked it up and began reading the cover feverently.

Scowling slightly, Beth marched over to the mahogany table and withdrew her wand. She was ready to cast an incantation when she released she didn't have an incantation to cast. She scooped her mind- surely a fourth year Ravenclaw could concoct _something._

_Well, obviously_, she thought, nearly slapping her forehead. That was a bloody first year spell!

"Repairo!" she commanded, and she waited for the spell to take affect. At first, nothing happen, but slowly the pewter of the cauldron began melting. Suddenly, El was looking up in mild surprise and moderate curiosity.

All Beth could do is watch as El's cauldron began slowly melting, and she looked on as horror as El watched in entertainment. It was rather amazing that it could do that, though. She might have to try this again.

Suddenly, the cauldron stopped melting, and began morphing into its normal shape- a cauldron. Apparently it had decided to go about fixing the whole by melting into a pile of pewter first, and then reforming to a fixed, albeit slightly thinner, cauldron. When the deed was done, Beth placed the wand in her pocket and waved her hand with a flourish.

"There," she said triumphantly.

"Oh. Thank you," he said, returning back to the Daily Prophet. "I think that might be the source of all the thin-bottomed cauldrons the Ministry's been having to deal with, though."

Beth sighed. Sometimes she got the feeling that El liked to argue just for the sake of arguing. Though sometimes, she found that she didn't mind. She liked listening to El talk- it was soothing, in a way, and even when his voice was soft it was very clear, as he spoke in a clipped, Scottish accent.

Absorbed in this thought for a moment, she didn't realize that he was speaking her name until he had come quite near her face, his pale brows had lowered slightly.

"Beth?" he asked, and as soon as he got a nod of recognition from her he continued talking.

"I mean, I think it's certainly I possibility…."

Beth looked perplexed, though she often was in his presence. "El, what are you on about?" she asked lightly.

"Hmm? Oh well, chocolate frogs, if they were once really frogs, you know," he said conversationally.

"Oh. Right," she smiled again. "We could test the properties of chocolate frogs in Potions tomorrow."

"Good idea," said El, as if this was all very serious business. Beth was pretty sure that El couldn't tell the difference between the different properties they tested, but she thought he secretly liked to see the reaction on Slughorn's face when they did.

It was only then that El seemed to notice the awkward position he was in. One hand was on the couch that Beth was seated upon, and the other was on the nearby table. His nose was inches from his face. His eyes popped slightly, and not in the excited way when he got an idea- he looked genuinely scared. He fumbled slightly, retreated back to his chair and the newspaper, and Beth did the same, only in the opposite directly towards the staircase.

"Going to bed!" Beth said, her voice far more high-pitched than usual. She wasn't sure if this was a command or a statement.

"Em, Beth?" El asked. His face was behind the paper, his shoulder shrugged so he could properly hide.

Beth cast a startled look back at him.

"What!" her voice cracked. She was still nearly screaming.

"Thanks for filling the hole in my cauldron." He still sounded nervous, but she felt she could almost hear the smile in his voice.

"Oh… Anytime," she grinned, running back towards the staircase with a spring in her step.


End file.
